Promise Me
by IndigoNightandRayneStorm
Summary: ONE SHOT! Excert: “You will not die,” swore the human. He knew that his words were false he knew that nothing could be done, but he could not believe it, even as the undeniable proof slowly stained the crisp white sheets beneath his friend.


**Title: **Promise Me

**Author: **IndigoStarNight

**Feedback: **Yes please

**Summary:** ONE SHOT! Excert: "You will not die," swore the human. He knew that his words were false he knew that nothing could be done, but he could not believe it, even as the undeniable proof slowly stained the crisp white sheets beneath his friend.

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Lord of the Rings or the characters.

**Spoilers: **Nope

**Rating: **PG-13 for somewhat graffic gore and death

**Warnings: **AU for character death

**Author's Note #1: **OK, so, when I originally wrote this story it was NOT intended to be slash, however, far be it for me to tell the reader how to interpret my works. So, if you, the read, choose to read this as slash, have it your way. But know that if I had written this as slash it would be very obvious.

**Author's Note #2: **So, this is a really emo, fluffy piece. It used to be posted under my other pen name, for the full story on that matter look on our profile. Please Review!

**Enjoy!**

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**Promise Me**

"Estel…" started the pale elf on the bed. His hair was a bloody matted disarray, and his breath whistled painfully through fever-cracked lips.

"No Legolas," soothed the ranger sitting by his bed, dark as the other was fair.

"Estel, I am sorry," Legolas raised a weak hand, gently tracing his delicate fingers along the bandage wrapped around his companion's neck, binding a deep cut that still bled sluggishly.

"You have no reason to be," countered Aragorn, forcefully hiding a grimace at the pain that suddenly flared up in the wound; but the elf continued as though he had not heard.

"I was… too slow… too weak…" Legolas gasped and shuddered at pain of his own wound, "I should have been able to stop it."

"But you did," insisted Aragorn as he clasped his friend's cold trembling hand in his own, "I live do I not?"

Legolas shook his head, "I still should have…"

"No," Aragorn firmly cut him off, "I am well, now you must concentrate on becoming the same. Do you hear me, Legolas? Rest, regain your strength, that is all that matters right now." Legolas nodded and lay back weakly; his eyes closed as consciousness slowly fled him.

A single tear created a track down the human's dirt streaked face as he bent over and kissed his friend softly on the forehead. "Please Legolas, please get better," he whispered as he lay his head down on the elf's chest so that he could feel it gently rise and fall, closing his own eyes as more tears squeezed their way out from under his eyelids. Slowly his own consciousness followed his friend's, deserting his hurt and weary body as he slipped into dark dreams.

Lord Elrond watched the scene unfold from the shadows with a breaking heart. A single tear trickled down his cheek as he struggled to work up the courage to step forward and break the news to his youngest son. He could not bring himself to tell the broken human that the orc blade had pierced his elven friend's stomach, an un-healable wound. The young elf had but a few hours to live.

Some time later Aragorn woke with a start as the steady moving of Legolas' chest beneath his head hitched and jerked in a spasm of agony. Immediately Aragorn was doing anything possible to sooth his friend, stroking his hair, murmuring to him in elvish, holding his hands, anything and everything.

At last Legolas calmed slight, finally able to regain control of his body. "Estel?" he asked, his fevered pale blue eyes searching the room desperately before fixing on Aragorn.

"I am here Legolas, be at peace," answered the ranger gently, leaning over and cupping the elf's cheek in one hand.

"Estel…" Legolas struggled with every breath, speaking almost impossible for him, but he had to say it, had to force it out, before it was too late, "Estel, I need you… to promise… me something."

"Anything," Aragorn whispered, meaning it, he would do anything to bring peace to his wounded friend.

"Promise me that you will go on… after… after I…" he did not have the strength to finish, but he did not need to.

"You will not die," swore the human. He knew that his words were false; he knew that nothing could be done, but he would not believe it, he _could not_. His exhausted, heart-broken mind simply refused to accept the fact, even as the undeniable proof slowly stained the crisp white sheets beneath his friend.

"Promise me," Legolas begged, all of the joy, the mirth, the _life_ gone from his luminous orbs.

"I promise," breathed Aragorn, not really believing those words to be truth either. He simply could not imagine life with out Legolas' smile, his laughter, his comfort, it just could not be.

Legolas' "thank you" was so quiet that Aragorn barely heard it as the elf lay back weakly against the pillows and closed his eyes.

Elrond reentered the room some time later, not wishing to leave either of the two alone for very long. He stopped short in the doorway as Aragorn looked at him, his eyes bleeding more than just tears. He was sitting up in Legolas' bed, leaning against the pillows, clasping the completely still form of the elf in his arms as though he would never let go.

"I-I can…cannot feel a heart beat," the young human choked as more and more tears flooded down his face.

"Estel…" Elrond whispered, crossing the room to embrace his son, swallowing his own grief at the loss to be dealt with later, for now Aragorn needed him. The distraught human leaned into the older elf's hold, still refusing to loosen his grip on his lifeless friend.

Neither of them ever knew how long they sat like that. Elrond with his arms tightly wrapped around his son, Aragorn leaning into his father, still holding Legolas in a vice grip between them. They felt as though they were suspended in eternity, forever hung immobile in their pain.

"NO!" screamed Aragorn as he struggled against the protective grip of Elladan and Elrohir.

"We must Estel," repeated Elrond grimly. He motioned to the two grave elves who held a covered bier between them.

"No! You cannot take him!" the wild look in the ranger's red-rimmed eyes frightened the others, facing them with the chance of loosing their Estel as well, they just could not bare it.

"You cannot take him from me," Aragorn moaned, falling limp in his brothers' hold, surprising them into nearly dropping him. Elrond put a gentle comforting hand on each of his sons for a moment, before following the elves out of the door.

Aragorn sank weakly to his knees once they were out of sight, staring listlessly after them. Elladan and Elrohir knelt down next to the young human, both wrapping their arms around him and each other, longing to comfort him but finding it difficult around their own grief.

The sun shone, the birds sang, it was a beautiful morning in Mirkwood, but it was all a lie. Elrond and his household had traveled there to bring Legolas' body home to his land and people. Today the funeral for the dead prince was held. It was as though the elven city had been drowned in a storm of black rain. There was not a single dry eye throughout the wood, for the prince had been well known and well loved.

Aragorn stood with his father and brothers, next to Legolas' family, right in front.

Many elves spoke at great lengths about the many brave deeds of Legolas, they spoke of his kindness, his noble bearing, his grace and charm, and so many more things, but Aragorn heard none of it, he was far too wrapped up in his own grief to hear or care. None of the pretty words even came close to the truth anyway; they did not even near doing the elf justice.

At last King Thranduil stepped forward and sorrowfully dropped the first shovel full of dirt over the grave. He had offered to Aragorn the second, knowing how close the man had been to his son, but the ranger had refused, he would not play any part in this dressing up of his friend's death, he would not pretend that with the saying of a few pretty words, and the covering of the grave that the pain would be buried as well, it just was not so.

Long after the funeral was over and all of the elves had returned to their homes to grieve in private, still Aragorn stood numbly over the fresh grave. He no longer cried or screamed, he simply stood, finding it impossible to believe that he would never again hear Legolas' merry laughter, never see his smile, hear his voice, feel his comforting arms around him, never again.

He considered just laying down right there, next to his friend and never getting up again. He wanted to, he longed to just give up, but as he stood there a memory of the voice he would not hear again came floating to him on the wind.

Promise me Estel, promise that you will go on… 

"I promise," he whispered again to the empty air, some how the words giving him strength, hope, "I promise Legolas, I will go on," and with that Aragorn turned away from the mound of dirt, never to look back, although a large part of his heart and soul would forever remain standing beneath the branching Mirkwood trees, grieving for his lost friend.

**THE END**

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**(Sniffle) Poor Legolas! Anyways, please review, and Legolas will love you forever!**


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